Fluffy Doggy
by dumbdumpbadumpa
Summary: Ludwig, like the average elementary schooler, wants to be a talking dog. But not just for fun, it's really his only option. And he finally gets attention from his beloved Feliciano now that he's a fluffy doggy, and even when he turns out to be a fluffy human. But then there's a vampire, and stuff.
1. Running with the Blues

((A/N : Ludwig is like 6 or 8 so it's not pet play or a fursuit its just a disguise. so.

There is Gerita, or at least a one sided crush))

* * *

"Why can't I just be a dog!" He said as he tickled Berlitz's ears.

Ludwig, while very young, found himself downtrodden by the environment of the public school system, and while very young, he disliked it.

However, he liked learning and he could coexist with the teachers. But hearing the taunts and being cast out of play-ground games rode on his self-esteem like an elephant on a zebra. His classmates were squishing him.

He just needed vacation from acting polite and neat, a break from ignoring his his loneliness, time-off from being a human boy.

But his brother did not understand him.

"What are you doing in that coat, you look like a bear cub! Want your scrambled eggs in Aster's bowl?"

"Yes, please."

"Nooo your a person! You're the best person I ever saw. Be the best person I ever saw at school too, wear blue jeans."

"You need to say have. You have ever seen."

"See! You're a cool smart person!" Gilbert handed Ludwig his breakfast on a plate and shooed him off to be successful. Gilbert had always been an awesome older brother, so he didn't know what it was like to be squished at school, he didn't understand.

He stuffed his coat pocket with accessories to complete his dog costume, grabbed his backpack on reflex, and made it out the door before Gilbert could tackle him down and steal his coat. Standing upright on the creaky porch, Ludwig waved at Gilbert as he backed out of the driveway in his big red truck. Gilbert waved back and drove down the street. Gilbert drove to school, Ludwig walked.

Ludwig walked towards Roosevelt Elementary, but before he left his housingtrack, he jumped into a hedge. Leaves jabbed him and ants crawled on him, but getting dirty would have to be part of his dog life. He squirmed past the branches and huddled up in the hallow part to clip two makeshift gold-toed ears to his head, and such. He was also tempted to shed the clothes he had on under his pelt of a coat, but for a dog it might be like shedding one's skin, and Ludwig had to be a dog or else someone would see through his makeup and spot his humanish cheeks or eyes.

He tried to run in his perfect disguise, but it flopped around, so he waddled. He listened for the school bells, and brisking his pace, he "ran" on all-fours. His paw-mittens gave him rugburn, and by the time he got over the fence of the school-yard, sweat ran under his ear to his neck. Hardly anyone stood around in the school yard, but the halls were probably full of students.

Except one. Feliciano Chibita Vargas, who was always just barely on time by the hem of her dress. She scampered out of her car with her backpack swinging off her shoulder, until she saw Ludwig and her backpack fell onto the dusty black-top. Ludwig dropped his as well, as discretely as he could, and left it there.

"Doggie-boo." She squealed, patting her knees.

Ludwig went up to her, limping on his beaten palms. She cooed at him and tried to see them, but he didn't let her. Because he was a dog. "Don't you have an owner?"

Ludwig looked at Feliciano's hair.

"Aww! No, what if the dog catcher finds you?"

Ludwig whined.

"Come with me, okay?"

He had to play hard to get. Dog.

"C'm'ere girl!" Feliciano grabbed her backpack and patted her leg. Ludwig followed her up the stairs and into the hall way, and she yanked the door open for him.

* * *

"Mr. Kirk-land," Chanted Feliciano, cutting his name up into pieces of cake to get his attention.

"Yes, Felician–Oh." Mr. Kirkland, Mr. Teacher, saw Ludwig and Ludwig looked at his knees. He wanted to check his face to see if he was mad or could see it was Ludwig or was sympathetic to his homelessness - but dogs don't read emotions through faces, so he just kept his eyes on Mr. Kirkland's khakis. "Feliciano."

"She–he?–isn't mine, but, I found her on the way to school and I was afraid—Toto and Tramp." Feliciano swallowed and started crying. "Mr. Kirkland, don't hurt this doggie!"

"Oh, uh, of course I wouldn't, but, we can't have a dog in,"

"No, they can't go back out or the pound will get them! And their paws are hurt. Please, Mr. Kirkland."

"Oh, for today, maybe. I'll see about," Mr. Kirkland sighed, thinking of all the work it would have been to keep a dog in the class. "Getting him a licence to be a class pet."

"Him?"

"Yes, I think so. Do you want to name him?"

"Um... Hundindi!"

"How cute."

The bell rang and Mr. Kirkland dispelled the crowd that had gathered around Ludwig, and Ludwig followed Feliciano just in case Ms. Gulch was real and creeping around somewhere. He curled up under Feliciano's desk.

"Are you sure that isn't your dog, Feliciano?"

"I am. Look at his poor fur, it looks faux, that's how homeless he is."

"He looks like a wolf – that's it, a little brown wolf. But, he certainly smells fine."

"Bwauf." Said Ludwig from his belly.

"What a cute doggie!" Everyone said. Ludwig blushed and hid his face in his fur, hoping they wouldn't try to wash him.

* * *

At lunch, Feliciano kept Ludwig at her heels, and they ran around until Feliciano grabbed him and then they started wrestling. It fun at first, but then, since Ludwig was so close to Feliciano, well I don't remember what romance was like in elementary school, but let's say Ludwig smelled Feliciano's detergent and got embarrassed about cooties. He stopped pawing at her.

"Silly dog – dogs don't get tired that fast." Feliciano got off him and pushed him onto his paws and knees. "Uh, dogs... dogs don't blush..." Feliciano said, hugging Ludwig for close inspection, pressing her thumb gently into his cheek. "Dogs don't _have_ cheeks."

Ludwig growled at her. Feliciano let him go and sat down to ponder the revelation.

"Are you a guardian angel?" Said Feliciano.

"It's the opposite way." Said Ludwig.

Feliciano held her head in disbelief. "You're a good actor, Hundindi!" She let go of her head and jumped to her feet.

Ludwig nodded his head gravely. "Um, between you and I, would you tell Mr. Kirkland that Ludwig Beilschmidt is in home school."

"Ah! Ludwig?" Feliciano lifted his floppy ear to look inside his brain and make sure he was truly speaking for himself.

"Hundindi."

Feliciano frowned. "Yeah, I'm, ve, uh, good with secrets, uh-huh."

Ludwig drew away from her in a sudden jerk, gave a yelp, and flattened on the ground–offended.

"Sorry! What's wrong Hundindi?"

He wouldn't look at her.

Feliciano put her hand out cautiously so she could pat Ludwig as her apology. Being tapped in this fashion let Ludwig settle back completely into his character. He found it suddenly necessary to stretch his vocal cords so he could bark loud enough to interrupt Feliciano should she say something wrong. He ran to the fence, let himself slam against it a bit, just enough to make the mail bounce, and barked at cars as sincerely as he could. He also checked for his backpack out of the corner of his eyes... Still there.

Feliciano followed him in complete awe. "Guardian angel." She said, and the words found their way into Ludwig's muffled ears in between his barking, and he stopped trying to feel his lungs and started feeling his heart, and his barking became a mumbled spoken thing, more human. His back feet felt like they were floating.

"Haha." Feliciano poked his shoulders. "Hundindi."

Yeah. Ludwig set his front feet on the fence, longing for something.

The bell rang before long, and Feliciano, who'd left him in his day dreams, came back and scooped him up. She squished him briefly in a hug, and Ludwig curled his back legs for a moment. Feliciano was pulled forward by his weight, and fell right on him. Ludwig yelped and hopped out from under her, running towards the stairs at the front of the building.

But he couldn't stand being being doggish when he heard Feliciano sniffle. She'd skinned her chin on the way down. Ludwig stumbled over and layed on the ground with a whimper. Feliciano sat down and Ludwig watched her mouth quiver as she stroked his coat. He nudged Feliciano into standing, and waddled with her to the school's door and through the halls.

* * *

"Feliciano, are you okay." Mr. Kirkland clicked his tongue.

"I fell."

"I'll get you a band-aid." Mr. Kirkland went through his desk drawers, and the class found its seats. Ludwig curled up next to the trash can, because he felt like trash for making Feliciano fall. He was only trying to be small enough to carry, but he never thought about his weight. He wasn't fat or muscular, just a human boy wearing a big coat, but Feliciano didn't normally lift boys, and it make her knees and arms shake. Ludwig was pretty sure he could pick Feliciano up, but not in his current get up. No thumbs, no grip.

"Hundindi, don't lie there." Mr. Kirkland patted his knee and Ludwig crawled to him. "There's no food in the trashcan, you silly scrounge-hound."

Ludwig decided to just sit next to the bureau.

"We should have a blanket drive," said Mr. Kirkland, seeing Ludwig on the cool floor. "Have your parents look through the closet and see if there are any gently used (baby)blankets, we'll make Houdini a bed and I'll drop the rest off at the shelter. Sound good?"

"Yeah!" The class squealed.

For a moment, Ludwig frowned because he thought he was taking up blankets that could go somewhere better, and perhaps he was, but no one would have thought about their old baby blankets and miscolored down comforters – the ones that are perfectly good but no longer compliment the color on the bedroom wall – unless Mr. Kirkland did it for them. And Mr. Kirkland may not have done it unless Ludwig were here in costume. He yawned happily, figuring it was better than nothing to be the reason for a blanket collection in November.

He listened to the lessons, until all of the sudden Feliciano remembered something important for both of them. Feliciano's hand shot up in the middle of a lecture.

"Yes?"

"It's, uh, um, ve ve, off topic..."

"That's okay." Feliciano never had her hand up, so Mr. Kirkland was finally getting a thing he'd longed for all year, proof that Feliciano didn't sleep in class.

"Um, I saw Ludwig at lunch today and he said he was moving to homeschool."

"Oh. Uh. Okay. Tell him that the tests are proctored every staff-day in Mr. Honda's room, 105, unless he needs that day off, in which case his guardian has to sign another form." Kirkland handed Feliciano a packet, and she and Ludwig exchanged a glance.

"Tests? Procturd?"

Mr. Kirkland spelled "to proctor" on the blackboard. "Homeschoolers must take tests to make sure their parents or tutors are doing a good job with the curriculum, and proctor is a word you'll hear more and more the farther you pursue your education, it's when someone watches you take a test to make sure your doing it according to the instructions, and not cheating. I proctor all your tests in this class, for example, unless you have a sub."

Feliciano was nodding along politely, but Ludwig was taking firm mental notes. 105. Staff-days, he wished he could ask about which those were, curriculum. Yes. Easy. He didn't even have to do homework, now. He would just have to listen carefully. And who said school teaches you good habits for college!

* * *

After school, Feliciano stared at Ludwig while she packed up. In her eyes, she knew that Ludwig had a home, but Hundindi still did not. He glanced at Mr. Kirkland. But then, one of her friends distracted her. It was such a thorough distraction that, suddenly, Mr. Kirkland and Ludwig were the only ones left in the room.

He walked around the class room in a daze. He must have been distracted as well. He walked around in a way that made Mr. Kirkland looked up at him from his skuffling around with papers and his cell phone.

"Right. Little Houdini. Are you sure you don't have, a um, little, shack somewhere. A home."

Ludwig stared at him. The door was closed, so he was stuck in a situation that starting to get startling; it was nice of Mr. Kirkland to offer his home to Ludwig, but Ludwig already had a home with his brother.

"Well, I guess I'll have to let you spend the nights with me." Mr. Kirkland sighed and gathered his things into a bag over his shoulder and told Ludwig to come, so he did, deciding he would just, you know, run away. It would be, um, probably easy.

They went into the school-yard, and Mr. Kirkland enlisted Ludwig to help him put some sand back in the sandbox, but of course dogs are not that helpful so Ludwig just sat his front paws on the rim of the box and pretended like he was sniffing the sky with his super doggie-nose.

When Mr. Kirkland was done being an overachieving school master, he patted his knee – that was starting to get annoying – and Ludwig followed him to his car.

He picked Ludwig up like he was a dog, and then juggled him around to get his keys out of his giant totebag. During this, Mr. Kirkland put his trust into Ludwig, that he wouldn't fall or jump out of his arms and kick his chest as a jumping-board, and Ludwig broke this trust, hitting the ground like a frog and running like one as well.

It was awkward because he had to stick his rear-end into the air to get his back legs to stretch enough to propel him at any speed, but he couldn't break character and stand up so he just kept running at an angle and feeling his coat lurching back and forth as he hopped and trotted over the sidewalk.

"H—Houdini! Houdini!" Mr. Kirkland did not sound like he was running after him, still thinking that dogs picked up off the street would be unconditional about their dogish need to please and follow orders. "Hundindi, please!" Now he was running, but Ludwig was almost at the corner, so Mr. Kirkland stopping running after a few moments. He was an adult, Ludwig figured, and maybe he knew when to quit. Ludwig was glad. "Houdini!"

He ran around the corner and then even though he told himself he would stop running on his hands, he didn't, just in case Mr. Kirkland did catch up to him with his adult legs and aging joints. Ludwig soon realized, however, that he was going the wrong way if home was his destination.

He galloped onto a street that would lead him home, but it was an out-of-the-way route.


	2. Mysterious Band-aid

Ludwig collapsed panting at the foot of Dummy Tree behind his backyard (called such because once Feliciano's older brother had come to fight Ludwig, but they both were not ready for a fight, so they had both treed each other on different sides of the tree. They were both so proud that the other was treed that they ignored their own perdicament in order to tease the other about being a weenie.) Dumb.

The Dummy Tree's roots poked out of the ground, and Ludwig spotted a clean gap between two roots. So he used the claws on his paws to dig a hole to hide his costume in. He couldn't tell Gilbert, so he'd have to come here every morning. It wouldn't be so bad, not as bad as the hedge–but running home was a killer. Whew.

His back legs were sore from squatting over the roots, but the hole was big enough for the costume, so he took it all off, from his claws to his ears to his coat, and laid on the grass to dry the coat of sweat he had on him from wearing layers.

Then he stood up and walked home, going to the backdoor like it was still 3pm.

"Ludwig, is that you!" Gilbert's voice cracked from inside the house once he got the sliding-glass-door open.

"Uhyeah." Ludwig slid the screen door over the runner. Gilbert ran over and picked Ludwig up in a giant bear hug.

"Oh my God. Are you alright! Where were you!" Gilbert said. "How could you do this to me!"

Uhyeah, it had probably taken him a long time to wait for Mr. Kirkland to leave the class and a longer time to find his way home.

"Sorry."

Gilbert gave him a final squeeze. "Where! Were you!" He put him down, not shouting at him but not whispering either. "Do you know what time it is!"

"I made a new friend."

"Oh. What, were you two playing basketball on Mars?"

Ludwig grabbed his shirt, hitting a sweaty spot. "Um, well," The whole shirt was a sweaty spot. Curse that wonderful coat.

"Spit it out."

"De...tention." Well, he'd definitely been trapped in a classroom after class.

"Oh. School could have at least called home!"

"Only for a lecture, maybe, uh, five minutes. I got... in a fight... Skinned my palms and the other person's chin." He was still not over the guilt, because he couldn't have said he was sorry, because if he broke character around Feliciano too frequently, he'd be caught. Or maybe he couldn't say sorry because it was just hard to admit. "And then basketball ...on Mars."

"Oh Ludwig." Said Gilbert, his tone becoming unreadable. "There wasn't a tree involved, was there?"

"No sir."

"That's a conflicting thingamajig." Gilbert rubbed his neck, trying to itch under the band-aid he had there, then remembering he had a band-aid and moving his fingers up to fidget with his hair. "I gotta punish you for not coming home on time, but I'm kinda glad you're standing up for yourself. Unless this was about being a hero?"

Ludwig was not a hero.

"How come your poker face only works when you're happy? Dang it, Ludwig. Did you at least win the fight for the person?"

"It..was..."

"Well. Your punishment is... you... have to... do... my English homework! Yeah."

"Sure." Ludwig followed his big brother to the orange dining room table and pulled up a chair.

"Okay, first you gotta sit through a lecture. So there's a fella who calls himself George Orwell..."

Dinner was late because Gilbert's English homework was really hard. There wasn't an answer key or a calculator or a textbook. They'd worked together until Gilbert had to go to work. Ludwig felt like he was hindering him.

When Gilbert got home, it was "too late for dinner, blame English" so they got in the car for fast food. "Except, you're supposed to be in trouble."

So Gilbert had called his girlfriend Eliza in the car on his cell phone. They talked for hours and hours and then Gilbert hung up on her. It was at least 15 hours of jabbering.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Taco Bell..." Ludwig said.

"Then we're going to McDonald's, you stayer-at-school-er."

"Okay."

Gilbert looked at him. "No, we're going to Popeyes."

"Sure."

"Burger King."

"Uh,"

"Burger King it is!" Gilbert drove them to Burger King. Fast-food for punishment, what a life.

* * *

The next morning, bright an early, Gilbert said something terrible to Ludwig over breakfast. "Where's your backpack?"

Um...! "See, that's what the fight was about."

Gilbert knew it was a lie. "Let me see those scuffed palms and broken chin."

Ludwig showed him his hands.

"Gosh! You need neosporan. Why didn't you tell me earlier that you weren't lying!" Gilbert took him to the bathroom, set him on the counter, washed his hands, really hard, owww, and put weird old jellysporan on his terrible palms. "Want a band-aid, poor little brother?"

"Yes please." He said.

"I got these cool blister-aids for my vampire bites." Gilbert' had a Schrodinger's vampire bite, always covered with crisscrossed My Little Kitty band-aids, like four, except now, it was just a beige patch. Ludwig knew that vampires weren't real, despite Gilbert's faintness in the mirror, teenagerly avoidance of the sun, (you should see how he dresses for school) and fondness for musky cologne.

But, there could be something under the band-aids. Or it could be work related. It seems too big to be a vampire bite, and wouldn't it have healed? Maybe vampires are super emo and bleed constantly, and cry blood, spit blood, and sneeze... Uerwg, nevermind. Maybe vampires never sneeze. Yeah. So they always have a sinus headache. Spooky!

Ludwig had his money on spider breeder, octopus wrangler, or perhaps a lab rat for various types of medicine that gave him rashes, but he got paid anyway so he just covered band-aids in ointment and smiled about it. "They have, like, aloe-vera or something. And," He got them out of the medicine cabinet.

Ludwig took one out of the box and fund it was bigger than a usual band-aid.

"It'll fit the whole heel of your hand." Said Gilbert. "Nifty, huh?" He peeled the wax paper off the one Ludwig was holding and put it on him, smoothing it gently with his thumb. And then the other one, and he patted Ludwig's back and said. "Do you need a temporary backpack?"

"No, I'll be alright. Thank-you Gilbert."

"Let's go to school and see if you should be in middle school already, or if you've failed Orwell's expectations... or you... To be honest, I don't even know who Orwell is. Don't be like me, do your work." Gilbert put on a weird accent. "For tha lubba God, Ludwig, do yer work!"

Ludwig went to the Dummy Tree and put on his disguise with a smile, taking his clothes off this time, stripping to a tiny wife beater and undies.

He ran on his feet with his coat unbuttoned, until he got close to the fence, whenwhich he got onto his paws and buttoned his chest and stomach together. And picked up his imaginary hotdog-guts and stuffed them back into his stomach like a skeleton.

He jumped over the fence and saw his backpack again, and then he looked to the place where Feliciano had come from last time, and he saw her again.

"Hundindi!" She said, running over to hug him.

"Oomph."

She borrowed her face into Ludwig's shoulders, but unlike a wolfish dog, Ludwig's most lovely furriest feature was not his neck, it was pinkish and soft. With a disappointing sound, Feliciano pulled his coat back up to cover it. "No one will notice unless they try to hug you. I'm the only one allowed to hug you."

Wow. That was good, Ludwig didn't really like hugs, but then... Feliciano gave them differently. "Burr hff."

"You big weird dog." Feliciano stood up and Ludwig followed her to class. "Morning Mr. K."

"Oh Feliciano! I'm so sorry, I don't think I'm a dog person, I think he got startled–" Mr. Kirkland stood from his desk.

"Rao?" Ludwig hid behind Feliciano's legs – he was mad, wasn't he?

"Houdini?"

"Hurf."

"Why'd you run away from me, are you a mad cow dog?" He was secretly mad, Ludwig could see it in his face, so when he came to rough Ludwig's fur, Ludwig walked around Feliciano's leggins in a circle, avoiding his reach.

"Whatcha mean," Said Feliciano, petting Ludwig's head.

"I, um, I tried to take Houdini home with me so he'd have somewhere warm to sleep... Where'd you find him? I feel so bad for losing him."

"Maybe he's got a bunch of lady-dogs he sleeps with." Feliciano tried to think of something to make sure that Mr. Kirkland wouldn't try to kidnap Ludwig after single day, and didn't feel bad about letting him wander the streets. He didn't wander, he knew the way home, it just took a while if he went they way he'd been going. "A corgi orggy."

"How colorful." Said Mr. Kirkland doubtfully. "Also five minutes in the corner for trying to say that word, don't make jokes like that in a professional setting."

"Aw." Feliciano waddled away.

"Snphm." Said Ludwig.

"And—you're positive you're not just looking for an excuse to bring your dog to school?"

"Uh-uh, no sir. Vatti doesn't like dogs, he says they cost too much to take care of."

"Then why do you come to school so fashionable and covered in cat hair."

"Ve, once you have a kid, you have a kid." Said Feliciano, quoting someone and giggling.

"Hm, okay. Today we're starting with grammar, but first are announcements. On Monday is a staff day, so don't come to school, and on Tuesday we're having a second staff day."

"Staff day." Feliciano muttered.

Oh yeah staff day, that happens every other second around here. Ludwig would hate it, if he had a car, because the DMV is always half-staffed just when you need it.

The class had a racket about the staff day, and Ludwig laid down and listened with one of his floppy ears. He had his first test on Monday, but for someone so small, it would be hard to get out of the house in secret. Gilbert would probably get a baby sitter for him if he went to Eliza's house, so Ludwig might miss the test and flunk out of school. Hm.

"I'm going to the movies with my family." Said Feliciano's friend, Matthew.

"I'm having a lunch date with someone who doesn't go to the school. He's blond and has big blue eyes, and a nose like wooeep." Said Feliciano. "We just have to ask our parents."

Ludwig's nose was kinda like that. Either Feliciano was cheating on him or she was making up his excuse for being out of the house, a very quick thinking amazing wonderful person. Ludwig sneezed.

"Bless you, Hundindi."

"His nose is like wooeeeep." Said Matthew.

"Because he's got a big wet nose. Wooeeep is almost like wooeep."

Ludwig was pretty sure she was trying to tell him that he was the lunch date. He rolled onto his stomach. A sign of trust (and gratitude.)

"Quit down," Mr. Kirkland called attention from everyone's plans and discussions. "On Wednesday, we'll make turkeys, Thursday is the gratitude parade, and Friday is the beginning of Thanksgiving Break. What good timing, so much time off school.

There was another racket. Ludwig rolled back over. Break would be nice, maybe he and Feliciano could have an actual playdate, not a sneak date.

"But! Class, do you want a lecture about how loud you are? No? Good. Today we will learn about Christopher Columbus and how he brought syphilis and American colonialism into style and was generally a bad guy." Mr. Kirkland pulled a map down. "Now, here's Spain..."

He exerted himself to keep his eyes open. Dogs don't care about bad things, they love to sleep.


	3. Big Words Are Totally Isometric

Feliciano and Ludwig played leap frog on the very edge of the grass.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Feliciano said.

"I dunno." Ludwig said. "Astronaut."

"Yeah! You have to tell the moon it's been in charge for too long and it's time for a total democracy. You have to tell the moon that its subjects are unhappy and government needs to serve the people." Feliciano's adorable squeaky tone became slightly more serious: "You have to give it a heart check up, Ludwig, maybe it's only mad because it's sad."

"Wh-wh-what?"

"You have to go to the moooon!" She said, and started humming Super Mario Bros 2.

* * *

"So, um, uh...lunch..." Ludwig didn't want to sound like a bother. He jumped over Feliciano and then sprawled out in the grass.

Feliciano sat down next to him and said, "All we gotta do is ask our parents. Your parents can drive you to my house, and then we'll go in the front yard and play, and we'll run away and go to school while we're playing and then run back home for lunch. I think Vatti would let you come over, if you dressed up really nice. He's an aristo-cat, so we have to behave when we're in the house."

"Aristo-cats don't like dogs whose dog-brother is a octopus wrangler." Gilbert only worked three hours a night (except Thursday), but he'd explained that as a high schooler, he didn't have time for $7.75 an hour, so he had to wrangle octopi, which is harder and better so he got paid more. Things were still hard apparently, but he and Ludwig could watch TV together after dinner, Gilbert had time for that.

"Ocotpus? Vatti doesn't like octopus, don't tell him that."

"I think nobody likes octopus. That's why he gets money for it."

"Octopus can tell what soccer team is gonna win."

"They can not, no way."

"Can too, I saw it!" Feliciano jumped over him.

They argued and played until they were tired. Ludwig laid his chin between his paws and sighed, so Feliciano gathered Ludwig in her arms. He closed his eyes and stuck his tongue out.

"Hundindi." Murmured Feliciano, scratching the base of Ludwig's floppy ear.

Ludwig sighed at her like he was about to sneeze. She looked at the sun so Ludwig checked it too, to make sure it was still there.

* * *

"Thanksgiving on its way." Gilbert said on his way out the door to work. "I miss the 'rents during the Holidays. And May. And June."

"If we don't have parents, how can you miss them?"

"Well, I miss Grandpa then."

"Hm..." So did Ludwig.

"Gimme a hug." Said Gilbert, scooping him up. "What a cracked up world we live in, huh? It least we have a house from them, imagine if we had to convince someone to rent to us or make a down payment."

Gilbert always worries about real life. Ludwig thinks its super weird.

* * *

"Hey you!" Gilbert closed the garage door and Ludwig startled, glancing at the clock and finding, yeah, Gilbert's home from work. That was quick. "Go do your homework you weirdo." Gilbert pointed at him.

Ludwig put the X-box controller down and stared at the floor.

"I caught you, you haven't been doing it lately, so pick up yer feet I can't afford to tutor you. TV together tomorrow, ya procrastinator. School is ruining everything, it's driving us apart and making me super tired. Sheesh!"

"I'll do it, but first, um," For some reason, Ludwig was scared Gilbert would not let him and Feliciano run away together on Monday. Probably because he knew it was bad to say you'll be in the front yard when really you'll be all the way at school it sounds impossible!

"What..."

"Um, can I go to a friend's house on Monday?"

"A friend. Oh that's neat Ludwig." Gilbert hugged him and he wriggled.

Gilbert let him go and chuckled. "Go do your homework. Be free." He picked up the controller. "What were you doing, exploring Lego Denmark?"

"I need more bones so I can tame some wolves."

"Gotta be careful of wolves." Gilbert murmured, sitting on the couch and playing Ludwig's game.

"Gilbert don't." Ludwig whined. His game. It's his.

"I'll get you a wolf, don't worry."

* * *

Ludwig is forced to make up homework to do because dogs don't have planner-agendas.

_George Washington crossed the Delaware River on Chirstmas Eve, 1776, with his crew and one of them was sick with bronchitus. When they walked on the snow on the other bank of the river, it was so cold their feet started bleeding, but they kept going because George Washington wanted to win the Revolutionary War and that was scary. The Battle of Saratoga had not happened yet, so it was important that they did everything they could or it wouldn't have been the turning point of the Revolutionary War._

_It was snowy, and the river was icy, so it was very brave and nobel and American to cross it. It was not in Delaware, the first state of the Union, it was in New Jersey, the Garden State. They attacked the Russian camp on Christmas when they were not expecting to be attacked._

Oh, how boring.

[in cursive]

_F_

_E_

_L_

How do you spell Feliciano?

Ludwig went back up to F.

[in cursive]

_F antastic_

_E lectric_

_L ovely_

Hm...

[in cursive]

_I sometric_

There.

_There once was a girl named Feli_

Ludwig forgot the rules to that sort of poem and had to stop. Poetry is only for adults and children have templates, otherwise it's embarrassing and worthless, Ludwig doesn't make the rules. Or maybe...

_This is how the po_ [in cursive, on] _em begins._

_I don't make up the rules._

_I don't make up the words._

_I don't_ [in printing]_ make up the ideas._

_They just happen._

_No one can read this._

It is rebellious to write poetry without using a template or emotions. Ludwig isn't much of a rebel, or that is what he used to say to himself.

[in printing]

_Why is everything boring._

_Boring!_

_There should be MONSTERS and DRAGONS_

_GOPHER GUTS_

_MONSTER TRUCKS_

_DEAD FISH_

_DEAD DEAR_

_DEAD BEAR_

_DEAD CAMPSITE_

[oddly spaced] _DEAD SANTA CLAUS_

Empowering!

"Gilbert! Can I go outside and fight Santa!" Ludwig calls down the hall.

"Are you done with your homework!"

"I have half a paragraph to write, that's all!"

"Okay, fine!"

Ludwig went down the stairs and Gilbert pounced on him. "Ho ho ho!"

"Not fair!" They fought on the carpet, cackling and squealing.


	4. Gilbert the Awesome Babysitter

Chapter Four - Gilbert The Amazing Babysitter!

* * *

You know what?!

Gilbert's a vampire.

It's a funny story actually. So it was lunch and Gilbert was hanging out with his friend and it was raining and he went to the bathroom because his friend was being a jackass... And so he went down the drippy hall and crossed through the rain to the bathroom and there were some guys with dark eyes and Gilbert nodded at them and they looked so bored and and teenaged. One of them pushed him against the mirror and bit his neck/shoulder/in-between/anyways can you fucking believe that a fake vampire picking a fight with The Gilbert just to...AAAA He's really doing it this is disgusting fake vampires are disgusting can you imagine a dude sucking your blood disgusting! Give it back.

Anyways so Gilbert pushed him to the ground and was dizzy as fuck and the other one punched Gilbert but he didn't get to spit out any teeth but I guess that's a good thing anyways there was blood all over him and he saw the guy's hand was bleeding—must be Gilbert's hella braces cut him up huh? (just kidding he's sadly never had braces he's always been perfect!) but then they ran off like what the fuck. Gilbert caught blood-hand's arm and yanked on him but he got away anyways but hey.

I guess ya gotta know when to give up I mean, man, someone hits you and runs you gotta let people run sometimes. You gotta let people run sometimes.

Like, not when they start a fight and then run, but, some people, you have to just let em go.

Plus chasing after two guys in the rain at lunch in the quiet intimate part of the grounds (okay, so maybe Gilbert and his bro weren't, like, supposed to be there, but anyways) where all the classrooms are, isn't smart, and that's why, yanno.

Gilbert remembers biting his lip and looking at the door and then being like "Aaagph!" Because there was blood all over his chin blood kinda tastes like, you know, like,

Like a worm. Pickle juice. Wine? Yeah. Gasoline if someone could drink that. Bleach for sure, vampires love bleach. Chocolate but the melted stuff stuck on the tin foil. Ants. Plastic. A crunchy autumn leaf. Tumbled rocks. Chlorine. And other things. The taste of blood.

Gilbert washed his face and showed up to class 13 minutes late that day, and when they asked him why he was so late to embarrass him in front of the class, he shrugged and the teacher got mad and called him flippant.

There was a vampire club meeting on the announcements a week later (as always, some emo nerd club for fakers), and that's when it clicked for Gilbert that he didn't, you know, have meningitis or something. Being out in the sun makes him super tired and crispy? But he can't fuckin sleep? Garlic to furry throat and hugging the toilet? Church to running down the isle and hugging the sink in a sudden dizzy spell? Yeah, that's meningitis alright.

No no no no no it definitely was the flu. Vampires aren't real. Emo nerds! Mark my words.

He didn't go to the club and then passed out (like out out) in math class and then ate the nurse. It was very sudden but despite having passed out from hunger Gilbert didn't really have a good time keeping it down. This isn't a joke about how worms and metal tastes gross it's a cold hard fact Gilbert had the worst week of his entire life.

Vampires are pretty good at doing things, though, so he managed to hide the nurse. Then the mayor visited Gilbert at his house and gave him a fine and that was terrible (but, I mean ,it was fair, it was just terrible to deal with) and kind of explained that this town was mostly werewolves and Gilbert would need a license to eat people in this town. And don't join the club at the high school.

The number one dumbest thing Gilbert has ever heard in his life is a club of teenaged vampires but to get accepted you had to make a new vampire what the fuck what if the whole school fell for it they would run out of food and the world would be vampires and then they'd have to invent true blood and Gilbert never watched that show but it lasted like 10 seasons imagine the world being sucked into a ten season long plot please no make his life happy with no plot please. A regular life.

Gilbert killed those two boys and destroyed vampire club!

Just kidding he didn't kill them... or do administrative things to the club. When he popped up they got super scared like oh shit it's Gilbert! Good.

The end no more backstory.

Just kidding. So it's Wednesday the 7th of November, like a week ago, and now it's time to hear this vampire cry and whine and angst about how hard it is to be a teenaged vampire with no morals no soul. No money.

Gilbert is poor (and also a vampire) and also failing two of his classes because he's a good-for-nothing. He was exhausted and needed _more_ money. Like, firstly, he never asked for this Ludwig thing, secondly you need money to live, thirdly, money? ? ? Wht the fuck

There was only two days a week - Thursday and Saturaday - when he had a break, and that was cleaning up the house of Rodrick and Antonio, the gay werewolf couple with nephews they were raising as their own and had enrolled in Ludwig's school. (Yeah so that's Feliciano and Lovino confirmed for tiny werepups.) That was the break because they are an adorable family and their house smells nice and guess who's fault that is? Gilbert's, ahaha! The cleaning master!

The other days Gilbert drives around chasing 400 year olds to rub elbows with and whine about not having a Lestat or a Charisle and gets decent checks from them for but reals they are super loaded can't they give him, like, real money? For reals. Gilbert wishes a lot that he was turned by some rich guy who would teach him the true vampirical ways and stuff, maybe they could even be vampire buddy cop partners. But alas, he was alone, because he hates other vampires.

W

Angsty oldass 20-somethings need someone to talk to about their great guilt and disgust and wa wa. It's just not fun hearing, "Then I realized only killing, um, certain types of people, made me, like, a bad person, I guess. Also, what's the, the meaning of life? I don't have a soul." Like, yeah, you really _don't_ have a soul, keep sifting through the dirt in your coffin and sighing, you literal monster.

Arg. One day Gilbert is going to wake up as a monster. It's going to happen. All this bad shit he has to listen to is going to twist him.

The vampire Gilbert was helping knocked a vase off the table and Gilbert stood up out of his revery. Ew, glass is all over his shoes, dammit vampire!

The vampire growled, "Why am I so obsessed with raping maidens!"

"I dunno, Gershwain. Stay on topic, we're talking about the night you turned. Tell me."

Gershwain sighed and calmed down. Can you imagine this shit?

You know what's really really really weird about vampires?

Last night Gilbert got a wax apple thrown in his direction (accident) by a lady named Ginny. Night before was Garth. There was an other serial rapist named Garfunkle (and he was only 40! It's not just 400 year olds, it's 80's kids!) last Friday the 13th Gilbert catered (yeah that was fun, he and Ludwig made 2 pans of brownies and 6 plates of tiny stupid finger sandwiches) a party for Garfeild and Geri and got hit on one million times. And got one million new clients, Geraldeen, Gemma, George, George, George, and Gep.

Makes you wonder if God is also a vampire. (Also, haha, very funny, Lestat and Charlise are fictional characters, they don't count.)

And it's given Gilbert one hell of a dark outlook. He's not going to notice the day he becomes a monster, so that's really put a strain on him and Eliza, who is just some human Gilbert really likes (really really likes) (they're dating) (their zodiacs are compatible) (she's amazing).

Really and truly he should just leave town and try to serendipitize himself into some money and then, I don't know, buy some houses or whatever old people do. But he can't leave because he loves Ludwig and probably loves Eliza too.

It is Thursday. He works for 5 hours today, from 3:15 to 8, but it was better than sitting through a vampire tirade.

It's kind of boring though, just cleaning all afternoon, until evening.

"Hey Gilbert." Antonio said from the kitchen, with a pan on fire or some other awesome kitchen trick, pouring oil, taking something out of the oven with only one oven mitt, actually tossing a salad and not just mixing it. Pow! Woosh! Salad!

"I got the milk. Need help?" Gilbert said, back from that errand he just ran for them, striping the quart of its plastic bag and going to stuff that into the pasticbagbag in the laundry room.

"Oh good, dinner's saved! And no, but if you'd vacuum for us?"

"Sure thing!" It was practically free money, all he had to do was clean and drive and stand in line. That was it. No one ever lashed out and threw things around the house.

Gilbert heard a mighty roar and a green stuffed rabbit hit his leg. Wow betrayal! Gilbert picked it up and turned around.

The pups were standing there, Lovino holding Feliciano's hair and Feliciano trying to push him over.

"Okay guys, enough of that," Gilbert gently pulled them apart. "Go do your homework."

They followed him, each giving their own side of the story and pulling on his clothes so he would pay attention to them, but he didn't really care about the rabbit! Seriously, do your homework. Oh they're totally just stalling I bet even they don't care about the rabbit. They followed him, suddenly quiet like they were just going to invisibly follow him all day and never do their handwriting practice, which, Gilbert totally understands, it's boring to just write the same thing over and over, but, it also has pictures and is good for their dexterity. Gilbert unwrapped the vacuum's cord and tried to vacuum with Feliciano standing on it. It kind of worked! Let's put this on youtube. Rabbit stands on kid standing on vacuum pushed by ruggedly handsome young man.

"Do it Lovino." Gilbert handed him the vacuum handle, but, while he loved fake responsibility, he hated the real thing and just dropped it, rude.

* * *

"You know anything about teaching long multiplication?"

"I'm face to face with it every day! Algebra 2." All he had to do was help the pups with their homework sitting at the dining room with their little textbooks and some binder paper and Feliciano's highlighters, telling Lovino how to long multiplicate. That was it. It was easy, it didn't matter if they both hated getting help, he did it and he made them listen and work and he had never made them cry except that time when they got frustrated but that was just one time and math teachers make people cry like everyday and Gilbert had only done it once which meant he's one hell of an awesome math teacher.

It's good to know you're good at the little random things, like math teaching, because then you can give up on it after you max your skill, and you can max all your skills while you're still minor-passing and then never use them again because who would hire an 17 year old math teacher! It would be super relatable to little kids because teens are just like them (only better)!

* * *

"Wanna get covered in bleach on your hands and knees?"

"Heck yeah I do!" Easy. Good. The perfect thing to pay a teenager for, chores.

* * *

"Have you been practicing, Gilbert?" Said Rodrich with his ridiculous Rodrich accent and voice and all that terrible Rodrichness, while Gilbert was running around picking up all the hidden underwear and socks around the pup's room and piling them up in his arms and striding through the foyer room (with the piano and windows looking on the green and blue suburbs) to the garage where the washing machines were. He

"No no no no." Sang Gilbert. He ran to shove them in the wash and crept back into the white room.

"Higher."

"No-o-o... o-o."

"Higher."

"Ican'tgo an-yyy."

"Mi."

"Mi."

"Fa."

"Fa."

Rodrich beckoned Gilbert with the get-over-here finger wave, to the piano, and Gilbert stood there and stared at him. Listen, being alone with Rodrich was the only bad side of this deal, because weird, weird day dreams were always going through Gilbert's head. What if Rodrich got hot and bothered from Gilbert's sexy impress-the-adults clothes and loosened his cravat and it untied on accident and revealed his beautiful sexy neck

"Gilbert." Rodrich called him back to reality. God dammit Gilbert, shut the fuck up about peoples necks for once in your life Jesus Christ terrible.

"I'm thirsty. Too much singing."

"Thirsty thirsty?"

"Mm."

"How thirsty?"

Werewolves, they know about all the different sorts of thirsts. But does Rodrich know the thirst of this thirsty teenaged boy? Fuck.

"I'll just go back to cleaning, I'll be fine. I'm sorry. I'll double practice." Gilbert turned around and ran down the hall.

Rodrich raises his voice out of whatever secret musky murmuring he'd been doing. "Gilbert?"

To the washing machine! Down the hall.

"What time is it, honey!" Said Rodrich.

"It's 5:45!" Said Antonio.

"Gilbert, would you pick up Lovino and Feliciano."

Those pups had soccer practice everyday until the games started. Gilbert keeps telling himself to force Ludwig to play sports but how much did sports cost and if Ludwig was so dead set against interacting with kids, then he might as well stay home with the dogs and video games and smile about it.

"Sure, yes." Gilbert turned around and rushed through the living room.

In the garage, Gilbert turned on the light and leaned against the wall with the button to open the garage door, waiting for himself to calm down a little. He went out the side door and down the driveway, to his son. Say hello to Gilbert's son, his car. It is very precious to him, and kind of a pain to get in because, key, seat-belt, key, feet, shift, parking break. Or, seat belt, key, key, feet, parking break, shift? He's kind of a late bloomer when it comes to driving.

Do you think he could get some... _fast food _on the way?

Usually, Gilbert's clients could understand his needs, but with the werewolf family, they always _worried_ about him. Are you thirsty? How thirsty? Are you mysteriously studpidly needlessly aroused about singing to a married 40 year old man whose neck is always left up to the imagination? Drive to the park, okay?

Gilbert parked under a tree and brought the cookies he'd stolen from Antonio's pantry with him, locked the car and packed his keys, and strolled to the soccer field. The pups were excited to see him, tired and stinky.

If you're wondering about the sun, it's called an parasol, dumbass, and it has an eagle on it.

* * *

And the family had dinner and said, "Gilbert are you absolutely sure you don't want to go out for some dinner, go ahead. Sit down with us. Have a snack. Do both."

And Gilbert insisted that for this celery, it would be stealing. They paid him almost twice minimum wage, they had some kind of idea of the situation at home.

Just some idea, just enough that they didn't think he was some punk kid, just enough that they did call the CPS or something on Mom. She's somewhere in Europe...Lud's dad sends money to house where he thinks she is, and Gilbert goes and gets it out of the mailbox and boys toilet paper and frozen peas-n-carrots with it...Gilbert's dad sends checks to the house, (with letters sometimes, that Gilbert shreds with the credit card apps) which he uses on the wi-fi bill and gas.

So anyways he would clean the bathroom or something while they ate. He sometimes drank the bleach because he thought it was cool and edgy and like I said it's yummy. Cool and edgy is important to Gilbert at this stage in his life. Once at home he'd tried to summon a demon butler but it hadn't worked. He wasn't hopeless enough, I guess.

"Mr. Gilbert."

"Yeeesir Mr. Lovino sir?"

"Your brother is in love with my sister." Lovino says it casually, like he wants to bargain about it, and Gilbert slips off the toilet rim, the brush slips out of his hand, and his arm goes down into the, oh God. Toilet arm. Lovino cackles at him.

Oh God, it's Feliciano. Gilbert's pity family. Ludwig is in love with a Carriedo-Edelstein. Plus, werewolves? Did it have to be werewolves? Feliciano is the tiniest, cutest, stubbornist kid in the whole world. But she's a werewolf! Even with gentlemen for dads, a werewolf?

A werewolf? You know, the kind that eat deer? And cars? And boxes? And baskets? Not to be fantastically speciesist or anything, but. Once a month, man.

"Shut up."

"Make me, lawyer."

Gilbert gets a towel and cleans blue soap off his arm. "3.1415," Which is the pup repellent spell.

"AAAH no math!"

"Okay kid, I'm gonna give you the dirt. Ludwig's still mortal."

"Not for long,"

What is this kid, the Godfather? "And he's pretty happy about Feliciano, I've noticed and it's real progress for him and his lonely butt."

"Not for long."

"Whaddayawanna break your lil sis's heart?"

"I want to protect her."

Gilbert daftly sat on the can. "Come here, sit on my lap, I have a story about meddling families for you."

After mulling it over, Lovino came over to sit on Gilbert's knees. Gilbert said, "So, there were two families in Verona, Italy, back in the dragonking days, and they were both very well liked. And trusted and influential and stuff. Both of the families have hated each other since the Heraclesking days, and lately the hate has been rekindled. Everyday townsfolk will hurt each other over this thing, so it's no good. So, from the two families, a pair of star crossed lovers are reared or born or whatever. You following me so far?"

"Yeah, what do the families do if they hate each other?"

"Well, well... Well, the lovers, they end up dying."

Lovino squeaks, "What the heck spoiler alert?"

"But why, Lovino? Who did it? The families? The townsfolk?"

"Well if the townsfolk's hands are so unclean it must be them..."

Gilbert, who is having more fun then he ever thought he could with something so dry and bookish, rolled his R, "Wrrrong, Lovino."

"Hey, what are you do doing in there!" Rodrich yelled.

"Lovino, come back to dinner." Antonio suggested, also yelling, you know, from the dining room.

"Why, you little sneak." Gilbert set him on his feet and nudged him towards the door. "I was telling him Shakespeare." Gilbert said in the hall, hiding his blue stained toilet arm behind his back.

"Yeah, right," Said Rodrich.

"No really, ask him."

"Papa, Vatti," Lovino whined at them.

"After dinner."

"Now."

"Then he'll have to eat dinner with us."

"Gilbert, do it or you're fired."

"Oh, wow, Lovino, I didn't know you have that power." Antonio picked him up and he got fussy, which was his own way of giggling. And then he actually did giggle, so Gilbert had to go and eat their food if Bossy was gonna giggle.

They had gross salad. He ate two scoops.

"So, not only are they star crossed, but they're also unlucky, BUT, their deaths fix up the family."

"What? You're telling him Romeo and Juliet?" Says Rodrich. Fuck off, Rodrich.

"He's having issues, he needs it."

"What?" Antonio looks at him. "Issues?" Oops, sorry, Lovino.

"No!" Lovino said to his plate. "He just randomly blurted out a twisted abridged version of some double suicide story but he didn't tell me _what happens_."

Over an adult dinner without mac-and-cheese or pisgetti, Gilbert twists the prologue and then he has to look up the rest on his phone, but he doesn't get far because Lovino is furious that Gilbert is holding his attention with such a well told story so he asks questions a lot. Either that, or he's showing off his comprehension of Gilbert's Snarknotes for his parents. Or, or maybe the moon's getting to him, it's almost time for half the fucking people in town to take two sick days because biting people is just so much fun everybody in this town just has to get bitten by something, huh?

Anyways, you know where Gilbert will be when the bad moon rises, apologizing and picking something up while rubbing his newest bruise. Thinking about the rain.

For now, he says his goodbyes and gives his hugs to the pups and then drives to downtown and kidnaps somebody. I mean he already is a monster, I guess. At least he doesn't go around killing sex workers, you know?

How do vampires avoid prosecution? It's the perfect crime, that's why you've never heard of it.

* * *

Gilbert and Eliza have discussed Rodrich and come to the conclusion he's kind of an odd crush but Eliza can see the good points of an old married stiff. "He bakes really good cookies, for example."

"These are mine Liz."

"What? Oh. Well your cookies are good."

"I made this...they're my responsibility now...I have to...help them!" Gilbert said, then chomped one in half.

"Are you okay?"

"Nope." He gave her a thumbs-up.


	5. Thought Process

Chapter Five - Thought Process

* * *

Gilbert decided after dinner on Sunday to summon a demon again, you know, no big deal. But this time, it's gonna work.

"Love you Ludwig," He said when Ludwig handed him his plate to wash. You know, just in case the demon, like, eats him, or something. Gotta remind Ludwig that his undead demon-food brother will always remember him.

"Love you Gil." He replied, looking in the refrigerator. "Can I have an otter pop." Wow. Gilbert could totally feel that love. Eh, I guess he knows his brother loves him, you know?

"Did you ever finish that paragraph of yours?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

Ludwig shrugs.

"Okay. I know you're having fun but your grades are so important."

"Yeah." Ludwig wandered down the hall. He knows. He's an easy guy to raise, never gets in trouble. I mean, Gilbert could let him slack off now, who cares about elementary school, literally, but it would be hard to get back on track in time for high school. It's kind of a big deal /waste of life, but hey, it's a challenge and Ludwig needs to be ready for it. I guess. Whatever. He knows. He's a good little guy.

Gilbert set to finishing the dishes and got excited about the demon. Man. Believe it. Beliiiiieve it! He didn't used to believe in vampires and stuffstuff, but as a real life doomed angsty soulpire, he was pretty scared of them. It was always like he's Garlow and Gurtz is telling him the story, and he was also the guy reading the book, like, what the fuck? (That was a Heart of Darkness reference, haha!)

Just kidding, Gilbert wasn't in that silly old AP English class, get real. Liz just loved complaining about the impossible books they read in there. They read Brave Sex World over summer, imagine reading that alone how creepy would you feel? Poor Liz, man, she's had to read a lot of weird shit. Did you know back in the Bourgie days lots of authors got paid by the word or something can you believe, can you? Can you fathom that? Do you understand the magnitude of that statement? They got paid by the word, again, by the word. Paid by the word! Each word they wrote for the serial magazine they were in, the magazine guy would pay them, for each word, each word they wrote, each word. Imagine fighting your way through that shit text to take a test and write a whole essay about it?

Human beings (mortals) are just so odd, they've been around for so long they've pulled so much shit.

Anyways, bro!

But dude a demon would be so sweet if Gilbert could control it right. Imagine how powerful a demon butler would be. Clean these dishes, fix Gilbert's car, write his essay for him, time travel, pay the bills, pay off the credit card that keeps him up all day and all night and everything he sees is just blue like him inside and outside.

Gilbert smiled to himself, and glanced at the time on the oven It's Essay-o-clock.

Gilbert locked the back door, and turns off the lights. "Yo Ludwig, you want your bed time story?"

"Yes."

Gilbert shoots Liz a text and stops by Ludwig's room, and sits on the end of his bed and says, "Did you brush your teeth?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Here, you need more water." Gilbert went down the dark hall and held Ludwig's glass under the water-filter in the dark all alone. And then he hurried back to Ludwig's room, who's afraid of the big bad wolf, not him. He just had a book to read to Ludwig and to be honest it was getting exciting.

"Okay, okay," He picked up the book from Ludwig's bedside-table, and sat on the bed with his legs crossed. "Okay. Chapter 11. 'Where are we going to sleep?' Squirrelpaw asked," (Hunter, 138). He liked this book twice as much as the whole series before it.

After the chapter, he and Ludwig said their goodnights and Gilbert turned off his light.

He sat in the dark in the living-room for a while until he was pretty sure Ludwig was asleep. Then he went to the bathroom, looked himself in the eyes (and thought, shit why'd you do that? That's going to cross your mind right before you sleep, tonight.) redid his band-aids, washed his face, put pajamas on, put one more new band-aid on, had dinner, buried dinner, brushed his teeth, and went to his bedroom.

He, oh I don't know, lit candles and drew a pentagram on a piece of paper. "Hell to the yeah."

Okay but for reals, his soul was, like, already in hell, and might already know some demons. So he pulled a piece of his beautiful lovely hair (and then rubbed his poor little head because it kind of did hurt) and, uh, I mean, yeah, hell to the... you know, to the yeah...

The paper shook. "HELL TO THE YEAH."

A strange hair-curl popped out of the paper and Gilbert screamed in his heart because it's working he DID it! No more genocidal math teacher for him, it's time to god mod the shit out of vampirism.

A big buff Mediterranean guy rose from the floor. Aww, so cute, he has little brown cat ears!

Gilbert hid behind a pillow-pet, just in case. You know, summoning demons is usually dangerous, they're usually not cats.

"It's 2am... Why...? I'm tired..." The demon sat on Gilbert's carpet.

"Oh." A sleepy demon, some of Gilbert's adrenaline evaporates. Gilbert reached his chin over the panda-shield and scrutinized the demon for signs of it being, like, actually an evil cat piloting the body of a man. "Nice muscels I guess." Awkward when your cat demon is totally ripped. Also, Gilbert has never seen shorts with so many pockets. This is... weird.

"Oh... Thank-you... I try... Now, what... Did... You call me for?"

"Um, well I figured I'm going to hell anyways so... Haha."

Heracles'es dopey face focused with graveness. "What? I know as well as anybody... I dunno... It's not so bad if you have connections."

Gilbert pouted and hugged his panda. "Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah..."

Gilbert nodded and kept pouting. "What if someone stole my soul?"

"I don't know... I guess you'd have it different... you'd be stuck with your soul master... But hey..." Heracles shrugged.

"Hm." Gilbert thought about facing off with those guys who turned him in the bathroom, in ice hell forever. Then he thought better.

"Wanna sign a corntarp?" Gilbert said.

"Oh yeah if there's onething...I like better than relaxing... it's cats and contracts." His smile pinches up his eyes.

Gilbert looked through his school documents to find the contract he'd written for the other demon he never managed to summon.

**Gilbert's Demon:**

**1\. You may not trick me**

**2\. Follow my orders based on intent and not phrasing dont be a jackass genie**

**3.**

**4\. Laugh at my jokes**

**5\. Steal my soul from my soul master and take good care of me in hell don't let someone torture me**

Gilbert adds,

**by signing this you agree you won't trick me x_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

Heracles ammends it

**I _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ will serve Heracles Karpusi in hell in return for hell-protection, unless Heracles fails to please my mortal life, in that case, hit the road Mephistopheles, you win this round human.**

"Yeep, now I can sign this. You got a pen?"

"Uh-huh." Gilbert stood up, feeling a little small because, like, for reals, a demon contract? Murphy's law was making his stomach roll. And got a pen from his desk.

"Thanks..." Heracles signed the contract. "Haha..." He watched Gilbert sign it and hand it back. "Anyways, I doubt anyone can keep a soul away from me... I'll steal your soul back..."

Gilbert smiled and got back on the floor. He must be pretty lonely to summon a demon and have a slumber-party with it, but it was a knot of stress off his shoulders. The thought of being stuck with a gang of vampire teenaged boys (um, dudebros) had always kind of, you know, injected ocean water into his chest. Not anymore now he has Sleepy Musclecat! Basically the day is fuckin saved.

Gilbert felt like there was something he was forgetting. Hm. He yawned.

"Come on... You got to go to bed..."

Vampires do, in fact, need sleep. But highschoolers don't. So it was always a toss up for Gilbert, and he always ended up only getting a few hours, all things considered. "Okey. Wanna share the bed or, what, I got a couch but I don't feel like making it because it's like 2am." Gilbert stretched his voice out like a whining emo. Because, that's just who he is.

"I'll share if you'll share... I s'pose..."

"Okiedoke." Gilbert pulled his sheet and blanket back and, "Oh wait a minute, yeah, sorry for the dirt, bro, it's, gotta have dirt. In yer bed. Or coffin."

"I don't care about dirt... I'm a demon..." Heracles stood up. Ripped as fuck, it's a good think Gilbert is only into real people or this would be awkward imagine sharing a bed with a demon you secretly want to bone.

Heracles and his pectoral muscles lied down and skooted to the wall. Hm.

Gilbert grabbed his panda and turned the lights off, then stepped on some dirty laundry to his bed and realized Heracles doesn't have a pillow because Panda is Gilbert's pillow. "Hold on a sec."

"Okay." Heracles's voice sounds weird in the dark.

Gilbert crept to the late linen closet, he'd sold most of it in the yard sale, and... there never had been any pillows in it. So he went to Ludwig's room and stole one of his Pokemon pillows. Kind of trivial, for a demon anyways. Maybe demons can't see in the dark? He snuck back into his own room and is about to offer the pillow until he heard snorning. Okay. Maybe they don't have pillows in hell. Gilbert dropped the pillow and stood in front of his bed. In his sleep, Heracles had sprawled over the bed and taken it over. Hey, you can't make a full look like a twin that's not fair.

Um. Gilbert could go to the couch. Or wake him up.

"Hey, do you want this cute pillow?" He pokes him.

"Huh? W... I don't know." Heracles unsprawls and rolls over. "I could sleep at a rock concert. I always had that gift..."

Gilbert shrugs and gets in bed. Their shoulders mush together. Gilbert cannot sleep if he's on the edge of the bed like this.

After some rearranging, they figured it out and you know what? It's not so bad spooning with a giant demon. As long as your the big spoon, and... you're tired... who gives... a...

* * *

Hunter, Erin. Midnight. New York : Harper Collins, 2005. Print.


End file.
